


Butterfly Kisses

by antigrav_vector



Series: (R)BB fics - all pairings [23]
Category: Captain America (MCU), Iron Man (MCU), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shifters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Alternate Universe - Vampires, Crack Treated Seriously, Fade to black sex, Fluff, Hookups, Identity Porn, Kinda, M/M, Threesome, Tony isn't Iron Man, Trope Subversion, but he does have the Arc Reactor, insect shifters, polyamory negotiation, pre-serum steve, unconventional shifter species
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 12:56:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19063150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: Tony saves Bucky. And then keeps doing it. Steve approves. Rhodey is mostly trying not to laugh at them.





	1. [Bucky POV]

**Author's Note:**

> Posted with thanks to my beta reader [dapperanachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism) and my artist [LiliaNox](https://lilianox7.tumblr.com/).

He was off work for once. On a Friday night. And Steve wasn't. With a groan Bucky threw himself down onto their sofa. He was so bored, right now. He'd tried to keep himself entertained, but he hadn't even managed to lose himself in fantasies about his mate.

As though he could feel Bucky's restlessness, Steve stepped in despite his position at the bar, over a mile away, taking action to save Bucky from himself. Bucky heard his phone ping with a message alert.

_**From Steve:** [7:12pm] You're about to crawl right up the walls, aren't ya, jerk? Why don't you shift and go out for a while. Stretch your wings a little. It's a lovely night._

His first reaction was a knee-jerk no. The last time he'd gone out alone, on a lark, Bucky'd been snatched up by some fae and held captive. That had been a nightmare that had felt like it had stretched on for about three quarters of a century -- for all that Steve had pulled him right back out of their thrall before a month had passed -- and left him with a nearly useless arm.

But the idea pricked at him. He wanted to. It had been so long since he'd taken to the air, and he missed it.

_**To Steve:** [7:13pm] You do remember what happened last time I went out alone, right?_

_**From Steve:** [7:13pm] A bit too well. :/ But I'd do it all again if I had to. You can't let them steal your wings from you._

Annoying as he was, the punk wasn't entirely wrong about that. Bucky sighed. He couldn't let the fear control him, rather than the other way around. He'd used to love flying.

_**To Steve:** [7:14pm] You're full of terrible ideas,_ he wrote back, _but you have a point. I'm gonna see if there's anything interesting going on in Central Park._

_**From Steve:** [7:14pm] Should be safe enough, but keep a feeler out._

Almost against his will, Bucky smiled. That was typical Steve.

He stood up and stretched, stopping short when the scars and damage to his left arm pulled and made him hiss, then replied to his mate. _**To Steve:** [7:15pm] Going silent, now. I'll write once I'm home._

_**From Steve:** [7:15pm] You better._

Putting his phone down on its fancy wireless charger, Bucky opened a window, stripped down to his skin, and paused, taking a deep breath. It was summer, and the air outside his window was still hot, though the rainstorm threatening to make the skies open up was sure to cool things off noticeably, once it hit. He stood there for a moment, letting the breeze just wash over him, then -- thanking his and Steve's foresight for renting an apartment with a window that opened up onto a fire escape that wasn't easily visible from street level -- climbed out onto the rusty steel platform and closed the window behind him. A breath later he was shifted, grey-green wings fanning wide as he let himself adjust to the changes the shift brought, then snapping closed again.

He let himself just be, taking in the feeling of the warm air on his wings, for several minutes.

It took him a few tries to actually get himself in the air, nerves very nearly getting the better of him and sending him back indoors. But the open air beckoned, a siren's song cutting through the darkening skies, calling him onward, and he was powerless to resist, in the end.

From their apartment on the northern end of Williamsburg to the Great Lawn was just over four miles as the crow flew, putting the Park within easy reach for someone fit. He, well, he wasn't. Not anymore. It had been months, just over a year, since the last time he'd tried this, and Bucky just knew he'd be shying away from every shadow or so much as hint of anything resembling a will o' the wisp.

The flight itself wasn't overly long, but Bucky felt himself tiring as he finally approached his goal. He'd have to find someplace to rest before he headed home.

As he passed, he noted that there seemed to be a fancy party at the MoMA, lights and laughter brightening the place's somewhat austere aura after hours. A number of the guests were lingering in the front courtyard as he passed by overhead, keeping a wary eye on the sky. Sure, he was deep in the heart of New York City, but there was still the occasional bat or other predator passing through.

And then he'd made it.

It was such a shock of relief that Bucky almost let himself simply flutter down to rest on the ground. Only his lingering wariness and nerves stopped him, sending him toward a reasonably sheltered perch on a tall tree instead. He'd _made it_. God, he'd really thought something would try to swat him out of the air or the fae would come back for him, or... something. He felt like he was gasping for air, for all that he was breathing easily.

Bucky took the opportunity to stay where he was and people watch for a few minutes as he gathered his strength. A few of the MoMA's guests had ventured out onto the Great Lawn, their fancy clothes picking up the dew that had beaded on the grass. One man, in particular, caught his attention. Dressed to the nines just as the rest of the guests were, his tuxedo fitted like a second skin and his black overcoat draped over one arm, he stared up at the stars in the sky as though longing to join them. Wanting to fly.

The guy was intriguing.

That was really his only excuse.

Bucky gathered up his strength and fluttered over to the guy, deciding on a whim to perch on his nose. He got a surprised yelp and then a giggle in response.

"Whoa, okay," his perch mumbled, smelling tipsy. "That... that was unexpected."

Unable to respond verbally, Bucky flashed his wings at the man, not sure what to think of the way the guy's facial hair was rasping against his abdomen.

"Y'r pretty," his perch declared, and gently, carefully, reached up to gather Bucky in his hands. "What're ya? Moth?"

Bucky crept up to sit on his sleeve and fanned his wings again.

"Right, I got it. Luna moth, tha's what y'r called," his perch added, and Bucky would have laughed if he could have. He was surprisingly cute. And he smelled amazing, under the harsh slash of alcohol and sweetness of sugar.

Suddenly, Bucky _wanted_ , in a way he hadn't since... since Steve had tumbled into his life.

That, of course, was when the skies decided to open up. His perch swore, fumbled an umbrella out of his coat's pocket, and hurriedly opened it as best he could with one hand. Protective of Bucky.

His perch went silent, then, carefully making his way over to the side of the museum building, and into a sheltered alcove. "Can't take ya home with me," he said and prodded Bucky into perching on the brick instead. "Stay here til the rain passes."

And then he was gone, leaving Bucky with a wistful longing twisting in his chest and the knowledge that he likely would never see the man again.

The rain passed quickly, at least, and Bucky got home without incident.

_**To Steve:** [10:43pm] Home._


	2. [Tony POV]

The club was dark, in deference to the many creatures of the night that gathered there. There was music, loud enough to quiet Tony's thoughts by drowning them out, and the drinks offered at the bar flowed freely.

A group of fae folk, long blond hair tumbling over shoulders both male and female, was seated in a corner booth, milk in their glasses and honey in a large bowl in the center of their table. A pair of werewolves -- obviously mated, and to each other at that -- were flirting at one another over the small table they shared. The pair was almost nauseatingly cute.

With a sigh that went unheard, Tony leaned against Rhodey's shoulder. _Why did we come out here, again?_ he asked a bit peevishly, signing so that Rhodey would 'hear' him over the music.

 _Because you need to get laid,_ Rhodey told him, as though Tony had never had a one night stand in his life. _You've been moping, and that shit needs to stop._

Familiar enough with Rhodey's moods, Tony knew that he wasn't going to get away with putting his best friend off. He'd have to actually talk to a few people and hope that someone was actually willing to go home with him. If he wanted someone to share his bed, Rhodey, being a bear shifter, had no real problem finding someone among the nonhuman crowd. Tony, being a vampire, didn't have it so easy.

The humans went to bed with him easily enough, but they were only good for a bit of desultory amusement, at best. Just about every last one of them wanted the Bite, eager to live forever but entirely oblivious to what that actually meant. A large portion of them also wanted a chance to take a bit of his fortune for themselves. A few had actually tried to attack him when he'd denied them either of those things.

But nonhumans were generally quite wary of him. Too wary for him to have even the slightest chance of having a long term relationship with anyone who wasn't a vampire. His kind had a (mostly deserved) reputation for taking without giving back, when they were in relationships with weres or the fae folk.

Stifling a groan, Tony headed for the bar. If he was going to have to be here, he was going to get himself something to drink. Once he was within a yard or so of the countertop, the music dulled to a level that suggested it was a few rooms away. That was intriguing. Most nonhumans couldn't manage to do soundproofing charms, and those that could tended to be rich in their own right.

The bartender, a man Tony would happily have climbed like a tree, smirked at him. "What can I get'chya?" he drawled.

Taking a moment to admire the guy's figure and the sinful lips set in a face that promised sex and mischief, Tony considered the question. Did he want to actually try to lure this guy into his bed? He didn't seem put off in the least by Tony's flirting. "A pint," he replied after a few seconds with a smirk of his own that showed a hint of fang. "What's on tap?"

"Nothing fresh," the guy said with a shrug, unfazed. "But we've got some bags in storage if you want any."

Ew. No. Tony made a face. "Thanks, but I'm not that desperate."

The bartender considered him in turn, eyes raking over Tony's shoulders and chest and down to his hips, taking in expensive suiting, long coat, and everything underneath. "Well, if you want anything else, let me know," he said after a silence just barely too short to be awkward. "'M name's Bucky."

A nickname. This guy was careful, even after Tony had revealed he wasn't fae. Possibly wary of the fae at the far end of the club. And, Tony realised with a jolt as a whiff of the guy's cologne and personal scent hit him, he was mated. Off limits, then. Shame, that.

"Tony," he offered part of his name in return. "And if I decide I want anything, I'll let you know."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment.

Rhodey fetched up next to Tony a few seconds later, distracting them both as he ordered himself one of those fermented honey drinks he loved so much.

"What kept you, Honeybear?" Tony teased his friend. "Stumble across someone you were interested in?"

Rhodey huffed at him, indulgent and amused as the bartender moved away from them to get the requested drink out of the fridge. "Stop trying to play wingman, will you? We're here to get you laid, not me."

That again. Tony groaned. "You do realise that I can find someone for that perfectly well, myself, right? I'm not fifteen anymore. I know what I'm doing."

"You know how one-night stands work," Rhodey disagreed, "not relationships."

Scoffing, Tony turned his nose up. "What was Pepper, then?"

Bucky approached them then, Rhodey's drink in his hand, and exchanged it for some cash.

She'd been a statistical anomaly, Tony thought, answering his own question. An outlier so far from the mean that no one else was likely to come close to matching her. She'd stayed with him through thick and thin, and helped him through the palladium poisoning that had nearly killed him.

Bucky retreated again, pulling out a pitcher of milk and crossing the open area of the establishment to carefully refill glasses at the booth the fae had claimed, his body language screaming discomfort to anyone good at reading people despite his easy smirk and swagger.

A beat later Rhodey's voice pulled him back out of his thoughts. "She was the best thing that could possibly have happened to you," he said quietly, "and still is. She loves you, Tony, but she doesn't want the Bite."

That was nothing he didn't already know. Tony let himself slump against the bar. "And you think someone as good as Pepper will appear as if conjured in this little dive?"

"Stranger things have happened. Come on, order something to drink and we'll people watch for a bit. Get one of those weird froofy fruity drinks you love so much," Rhodey suggested.

Rolling his eyes -- some people had no taste -- Tony gave in and bestirred himself to get Bucky's attention, then ordered himself a tequila sunrise. 

Bucky looked oddly pleased by the choice, and Tony wondered why. Dismissing that and the flirting -- Bucky wasn't available, and Tony wasn't a poacher -- he took his drink, tipped well, and grabbed Rhodey by the elbow. "Let's find a table, and you can point out the lovely lady who caught your eye."


	3. [Bucky POV]

Watching Tony leave the sound-dampened bubble Wanda had created for the bar patrons with his friend -- a very close friend, clearly, but Bucky didn't think they were more than that -- he frowned thoughtfully. He sure hadn't expected to meet the guy again, much less under 24 hours after their first run in, and yet here he was.

Steve crept up behind him and wrapped skinny arms around his waist. "You like him," he said, quiet but certain.

"I could," Bucky replied, enjoying the way Steve's head rested against his back and the arms around him held him tight. "Do you?"

"I don't know," Steve replied. "I didn't talk to him, and from what I overheard, he's getting over a breakup." 

Bucky turned in his mate's arms and leaned down to give him a chaste peck of a kiss. "That doesn't change his character," he pointed out. "Only his emotional state. You know as well as I do what stress does to people, human or no. Strips 'em bare until only the most ingrained artifices are left, if any at all. He didn't respond to me, Steve, even if he did look."

"Huh." It was Steve's turn to think things through.

Bucky watched him, almost fancying he could see Steve turn things over in his mind, considering the angles like a strategist.

"I wonder why," Steve said eventually. "Just about everyone else you've so much as winked at was ready to throw themselves at you and try to make you toss me aside."

Chuckling and stepping back, Bucky shrugged. "You're not stuck behind the bar. You could ask him, if you wanted."

"Oh, sure, that would go over well. 'Hey, I was wondering why you turned down my mate when he flirted with you'," Steve shot back.

He cut himself off then, as someone approached the bar, and waited until Bucky was finished pouring drinks and collecting payment before he picked the topic up again. "And besides, if I'm not completely mistaken, that's Stark."

Bucky blinked. He hadn't been paying attention, really, beyond admiring the man's looks, but now he was tempted to swear. "You let me hit on Tony Stark?" he hissed at Steve even as he wondered what the hell Stark was doing in a place like theirs.

Goddamn it. That fit, actually. That party at the MoMA had to have been pretty exclusive. They pretty much always were. And a black tie event? Yeah. Shit, he had even less of a chance than he'd thought last night. And, he realised, he still had yet to tell his mate about that encounter.

"He didn't seem to mind," Steve defended himself lazily. "And Stark's breakup was recently in the tabloids."

"Those rags print nothing but lies and rumours," Bucky sneered. "Remember how they tried to claim that the mayor was an alien, repeatedly, last month? And all it was, was a case of food poisoning that made him a little green in one or two photos."

"But didn't they say Stark was on the rebound?" Steve asked him pointedly. "There might be some truth to this rumour."

"And you want to, what, invite him into our bed for a night based on that?" Bucky stared at his mate.

"He's here with his friend," Steve pointed out, "and not his girl. He's dressed to kill, and he definitely looked like he was interested in you at first."

Bucky groaned. "None of that actually answers my question."

"It's worth a shot," Steve said and smirked up at him. "If he turns us down, so be it. Your shift is over in about ten minutes anyway. Get Wanda to take over a little early and let's go talk to him."

His mate sure seemed set on this, and Bucky wasn't sure why. Might have been because it was a challenge. It truly wasn't often that they came across someone who could resist Bucky's charm. It wouldn't matter to Steve that Stark was a vampire, either. They'd had one or two in their bed before, for a fling. Sam and Natasha had both proven to be a lot of fun, for that matter.

But they'd both been after a simple bit of relief rather than anything more, and Steve was practically the definition of long term. He collected friends and lovers, hoarding them like gold and defending them viciously. He'd gone to some extreme lengths to get Bucky home, when he'd been ensnared by the fae a few years back.

With a somewhat put upon sigh, he nodded. "Fine. You're in charge here until I get back, and later I've gotta tell you about last night."

"Alright," Steve agreed, looking like he was already very curious, "go."

Giving in, Bucky went. It took him a few minutes to track down Wanda, one of the few witches he'd ever met, in the back room near the shared lounge they gathered in when they were off duty and didn't feel like heading home.

She looked up, caught his eyes, and smirked knowingly. "So. You boys have found someone you'd like to charm, hmm?"

"Not sure it'll work out, but Steve's all in," he replied. "Made me come out here to see if you'd be willing to start workin' a few minutes early."

Wanda laughed at him, the sound light and happy. "Oh, if it gets me front row seats, sure."

Knowing as he did that she could easily cast a spell that would let her hear them from across the noisy bar, Bucky made a face at her. "I don't really care if you listen in, so long as you don't go tellin' everyone about it before we know if things'll work out. This might end up being serious, and if it does, I want to tell the world on my terms and my mate's."

"I suppose that's reasonable," she agreed after a moment, making a moue and getting to her feet. "But at least tell me how it goes?"

"Ask Steve," Bucky said, his voice edging down into something approximating an irritated growl as he followed her back out of the lounge and towards the bar. "I don't kiss and tell."

"He won't either," she pointed out, not entirely happy with his unwillingness to gossip.

Bucky didn't much care. He much preferred to stay above the dramas that friends and significant others could cause if they clashed. "Exactly." 

Rather than reply, Wanda shoved open the door that opened on the bar and stepped through.

Steve looked up and grinned brightly. "Hi Wanda," he greeted their friend. "Having a good night so far?"

"It could be better," she grumbled. "Your mate is refusing me my due in gossip for taking over early."

"Well," Steve chuckled at her, "maybe if you'd been quicker I'd have felt a bit of sympathy. You're just about on time, now, rather than early."

Bucky glanced at the clock and was mildly surprised to see that Steve was right. He hadn't realised he'd spent that much time looking for her and trying to convince her to come out of the lounge.

Wanda pouted at Steve. "You're no fun."

"A deal's a deal, Wanda," Steve replied, not giving an inch. You're not here early, so whatever agreement you made is void."

She glared at him. "No fun at all. You spent too much time arguing with fae last year."

Before he confrontation could turn into an argument, Bucky grabbed Steve by the elbow and turned him toward the end of the bar. "Be that as it may," Bucky told her, "he's right this time. Come on, Steve."

Even getting shot down by Tony Stark would be better than putting up with this.


	4. [Steve POV]

Stepping away from the bar was one thing, Steve discovered. Approaching Stark was another.

It was oddly intimidating to know just whom it was that Bucky had stumbled across, and been attracted to. He knew his mate, though. Knew that Bucky was interested in Stark in a way he hadn't been interested in Sam or Nat.

He himself was still undecided, at heart, but he wasn't about to let Bucky just give up on the opportunity if Stark was actually interested. The vibe he got from the guy, vampire or not, wasn't nearly as shallow or cruel as the tabloids liked to paint him. And Stark had been in long term relationships before.

Bucky, luckily, was less hesitant than he was, once he was convinced that Steve wasn't angry about it or inclined to say no. He grabbed one more of Tony's friend's mead drinks and mixed a cosmopolitan, then picked both up and followed Steve.

Steve approved. It was a smart move to bring a bribe for Tony's friend.

Sauntering boldly up to their table, Bucky set the drinks down and leaned his weight on one of the chairs. "This seat taken?"

Tony's friend eyed him, and Steve tried not to bristle at the wariness there. "Who's asking?"

Tony interceded. "Rhodeybear, leave the bartender alone. He brought us drinks."

Steve stepped out from behind his mate and offered Rhodeybear, whoever that was, his hand to shake. "I'm Steve and that's Bucky."

The suspicion didn't entirely vanish, but the introduction seemed to mollify him a bit. "Rhodes," he offered as he took Steve's hand firmly and shook it.

Tony eyed them both, first Bucky, appreciatively, then Steve, more out of curiosity, and suggested, "Let's take this someplace where we don't have to shout."

Rhodes looked like he wanted to object, but saw an opportunity. Steve wasn't sure what to make of that.

Tony stood, abandoning his drink and led the three of them out of the bar, then down the sidewalk a ways. Rhodes followed, picking up his mead and taking it with him. Steve spent the first few steps letting his hearing readjust.

Once they stepped out into the warm night Bucky seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders, walking more naturally. His left arm still hung as stiffly as ever, and no amount of stretches or careful care would ever get it to relax entirely. Steve knew that intimately.

Tony's friend Rhodes noticed it, too. Steve could see him log the reaction and mull it over before he spoke. "So you offered your names," he said slowly, "but nothing else. What are you after?"

Bucky shrugged, the gesture hitching and slightly uncertain. "Nothin'. You seem like interesting people."

Rhodes snorted, disbelieving. "Right. And I'm the president."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh my god, Platypus, relax. You were all in favor of making me talk to people, earlier tonight."

"Tony, you know as well as I do that--" Rhodes started.

"That I can take care of myself?" Tony cut him off sharply. "Yeah, I do." He turned to Bucky. "Define 'interesting'."

Bucky paused. Hesitated. Steve's focus on his mate sharpened. "Bucky?"

A left turn took them through some gates and onto a shadowed path that wound between some smallish trees. Steve recognised the place. The route Tony was taking led straight through a small park with benches which was popular with the non-humans of the area.

"Well," Bucky replied slowly as they entered the park, picking his words carefully, "you're a regular knight in shining armour. Not many of those around, these days. You might not remember, with how many drinks you clearly had last night, but that was me you saved from the rain."

Rhodes turned to stare at him, and so did Steve. Bucky swallowed. "I wanted to thank you."

"I... what?" Tony looked baffled.

Steve rounded on his mate and caught his eyes. "You didn't say a word about this," he asked pointedly. "Why not?"

"Never thought I'd see him again," Bucky replied with another shrug, the fingers of his left hand curling awkwardly and making Steve want to take his hand. "And I didn't have much chance to until now."

"The gala," Rhodes deduced. "But how'd you get in?"

"I didn't," Bucky retorted, rolling his eyes. "I was out on the Lawn."

Tony squinted at him. "You're a shifter," he said after a moment, "and I can tell Steve there is your mate, by how possessive he's being."

Steve made a face. He wasn't being possessive. Much.

Bucky stayed silent.

"So what kind of shifter are you?" Rhodes asked the obvious question.

Steve was tempted to grab Bucky and haul him away from Rhodes, who was eyeing him like a tasty snack. Bucky, able to read him as well as ever, gave him a Look and shrugged. "Don't much like to announce it, with all the predators around," he answered, warily.

Tony made a surprised sound when he connected the dots. "You ass, you sat on my face!"

Rhodes choked on his drink.

Steve couldn't decide whether to laugh or bury his face in his hands. "Damn it, Buck! Really?"

Tony laughed delightedly. "Okay, you know what, anyone who can make Rhodey sputter like that is good people. I like you."

Steve found he wasn't surprised at all by that declaration. "Bucky, oh my god. And you were being all awkward because he caught you checking him out! For fuck's sake."

That got Rhodes to give in with a groan, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Jesus, you three are like drama in a bottle."

Tony suck his tongue out at his friend. "Some wingman you are. How do you get any dates whatsoever?"

"By not immediately jumping straight to third base with strangers," Rhodes retorted. "Honestly, Tony, picking up strangers at galas for a quickie is never a great idea. It's staggering how many times I've had to tell you this."

It was Bucky's turn to go a bit pink. "Well, uh, nothing happened? I was shifted at the time."

Tony took pity on him, and explained to his friend. "I decided I wanted some air at the end of the party and this massive luna moth came out of nowhere to sit on my nose. Made my eyes cross trying to get a decent look at him. And then the storm hit and I couldn't just force him into a downpour."

Rhodes was still giving them both the stink eye, but he relented, throwing his hands up in a mixture of surrender and disgust. "Fine, go fuck like bunnies, see if I care."

Steve snorted. "Yeah, no. That's not something we do on the first date. First, there's a few things we've gotta talk about."


	5. [Bucky POV]

Tony raised an eyebrow at Steve. "We haven't even had a first date," he pointed out.

Rhodes pinched the bridge of his nose again. "You know what, I'm out. If I don't hear from you by midnight, I'm tracking your ass down, Tony." He turned to Steve. "I can and will track you two jokers down and fuck you up if you hurt him."

"I'm sure they get the point, papa bear," Tony put in.

Rhodes turned and left, muttering about idiots and flirting. Bucky wasn't entirely sure what to think of the whole scene. On the one hand, Rhodes was intimidating as hell when he wanted to be. On the other, it had been pretty obvious that he'd been doing his best not to laugh. More than once.

"So," he said when the silence had drawn out for a few seconds, "first date. You interested, Tony?"

"What's on offer?" Tony asked carefully. "You're mated, and I don't poach. Thought I made that clear earlier."

So that was why he'd said no. "A knight in shining armour," Steve repeated, more or less under his breath. "First of all, we're a package deal," he said, raising his voice a little but still pitching it not to carry too far. "We've been sharing a bed for a literal decade and don't intend to give that up for anything."

Tony said nothing, visibly biting back the words, but looked entirely unsurprised.

Steve watched him for a moment, then nodded. "So if you're okay with the idea of dating both of us, I'm okay with seeing where this takes us."

Bucky added his support to Steve's words. "We're together, to the end of the line, but there's space for one more if y're willin'. Steve and I, we're okay with a casual fling but we'd prefer something more stable."

A silence fell and stretched out like taffy as Tony considered it. "Well," he said brightly after he'd thought it through, "I've had worse ideas."

Steve's mouth twisted. "We're a bad idea?"

"Only in that the tabloids'll catch wind of it eventually and go nuts," Tony waved that off. "But you've gotta know that getting involved with me means you'll be in the spotlight, like it or not."

Bucky winced. He'd never been a fan of media attention. "Lucky for you, that ain't a deal breaker, but don't go shovin' me in front of any cameras."

That got him a shrug from Tony. "That might be harder to avoid than you think. I don't go out of my way to stand in front of them, myself. More often than not, they find me."

Steve made a face, then pulled the discussion back on track. "That figures. So, first date. Dinner at our place, now?"

Tony made a show of thinking it over. "How far is it?"

"Three subway stops and a few yards’ walk," Bucky answered. "'Bout ten minutes."

"You want me to take the subway?" Tony played up his shudder. "I don't think so. Give me an address and I'll meet you there."

"390 Wythe Ave," Steve said after a beat, and Bucky could see him wondering whether this was going to blow up in their faces. "We'll walk you up. If you don't show up in the next half hour, we'll assume you changed your mind and went home."

"And if I'm delayed?" Tony asked, testing that boundary the moment it was set.

"Give us a call," Steve answered simply.

"Can't do that without a number to call," Tony pointed out, a hint of a sardonic smile tugging at his lips.

In answer, Steve pulled his sharpie and moleskin out of his pocket, tore out the first blank page he found, and wrote down his number. He folded the slip of paper in half, then offered it to Tony. "Here."

Bucky found himself worrying at his lip as Tony accepted the slip of paper, slipped it deftly into his vest pocket, and turned to go get his car or whatever without so much as a ’see you later’.

What would he do if Tony didn't show up? He wasn't sure. On the one hand, their lives would be a lot simpler that way, but on the other... he liked Tony a lot, and definitely wanted to see him again. Even if they decided they worked better as friends.

Steve cleared his throat, and Bucky jumped. "Come on, Buck, we should get going."

"Yeah." Bucky shook his head to clear it. "Right, okay."

They walked a block in companionable silence. The subway station wasn't far from the park, and it didn't take them more than five minutes to reach it.

"Think he'll show?" Steve asked as they descended the steps into the station and swiped their subway cards at the turnstiles.

The station was just as stiflingly hot and humid as ever, and, Bucky's nose wrinkled, someone -- probably drunk -- had peed in the far corner of the platform, making the whole space reek of urine.

Bucky shrugged. "No idea. Hope so."

"What d'you want for dinner?" Steve asked.

It was an oblique way of asking what they should make for Tony. It had to be something they would eat leftovers of, if Tony didn't show, and also something their guest would find palatable, if he did. Bucky considered the point. Sam and Natasha had been picky eaters, but Bucky had no idea whether that was because they were vampires, or just picky eaters.

"We still got those steaks in the freezer?" he replied eventually, answering the question with one of his own.

"Yeah," Steve nodded. He was interrupted by the rattle of the train pulling into the station. "That should work."

Bucky was glad to get in the train and away from the reek. The three stops they had to travel went by quickly, and then they were climbing back up into the slightly cooler air at street level for the eight block walk back to their apartment building.

They didn't have to wait long once they were there. Less than ten minutes after they'd gotten to the front door and settled in to people watch to pass the time while they waited, someone pulled up in a car that probably cost about as much as their apartment.

Steve rolled his eyes when Tony stepped out. "Subtle," he commented. "Amazing that the paps manage to follow you at all."

Tony smirked at him, and turned to his driver instead. "Don't wait up for me, Hap, I'll let you know if I need a pick up."

The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb as Tony sauntered over to them. "So I'm here. Now what?"

Bucky pulled the building's door open and stepped through, making a sound of relief when the cooler air inside hit him like a wall of ice. "Now we cook and eat and talk. Come on."


	6. [Tony POV]

He'd been less than impressed by the area Steve and Bucky were living in, frankly. Williamsburg was trendy, sure, but not the safest area, and he'd have been surprised if the pair of them were making enough money to cover the rent if he hadn't seen for himself how small their place was. It was a little shoebox, barely bigger than a studio apartment, but it had recently been renovated, at least.

Dinner had been excellent, too. Somewhat to his surprise, Bucky turned out to be a deft hand in the kitchen, and Steve was nearly as good. The steak, potatoes, and salad they'd served had been as good as many he'd had in the fancy restaurants he frequented.

Even better, the conversation had been good, too. The pair of them might not be scientists, but they were both well educated, for all that they hadn't ended up taking jobs in their fields. Steve's art degree was not one that opened as many doors as something like medicine, but he was very clearly good at it and loved it. The few pieces that had been framed for display in their tiny home had caught his eye. And Steve had been happy to ramble on about them at length. Bucky had stared at his mate with adoration and amusement in his eyes the whole time. It had been cute.

Insofar as anyone as ridiculously attractive as Bucky could be _cute_ , anyway. Not that Steve didn't have his charm, too. It was just that Steve inspired more of a 'take him home and feed him cookies' kind of thing with his slender figure and small stature, where Bucky's brooding looks tended to make one want to eat him up and then go back for seconds.

He'd learned, eventually, that Bucky was much more mechanically inclined than his mate, and had had the option to open up an auto repair shop, had he wanted to. Tony had spent the better part of an hour and a half picking Bucky's brain about things like drive trains and gear ratios, just to see where the man stood.

Of course, then the pair of them had exchanged a look that contained a whole conversation, and started grilling him in turn. About anything they could think of, from Rhodey to Pepper -- and talking about her had stung a little -- and his own hobbies and interests.

Overall, by the time he'd gathered himself up to head home and fall into his too empty bed, Tony had been willing to call the night a success. And judging by his hosts' request for a second date, they had too.

He'd offered them a movie night at his apartments. If they were serious about trying to implement the arrangement they'd proposed, they'd have to get used to him, too. They'd accepted, and so now, in the hour before they were due to show up, Tony found himself increasingly anxious. What if they bailed at the last moment? What if they showed up and decided it -- he -- was too much, after all? What if--

Tony's phone rang in his pocket, the ringtone Rhodey's, and he scrambled to fish it out. "Platypus!"

"Tony," Rhodey sighed, "your pacing is making me twitchy from the other side of the borough. Take a deep breath and then take it all down a notch."

"I'm not pacing, who's pacing?" Tony retorted, _striding_ , hah, across his apartment to double check the settings on his projector and sound system one more time.

"I swear, if you make me come over there one more time," Rhodey started.

"Don't even think about it," Tony grumbled. "I don't need you trying to scare off my dates again. I'm still surprised they decided to brave your disapproval the first time."

Rhodey snorted. "You might be good at railroading your Board, but you can't fool me, Tones. I've known you for, what? Nearly thirty years? You are about to wear a hole in the floor. For the sanity of everyone involved, you need to calm your ass down."

"What do you think I've been doing?" Tony grumbled.

"Trying to and not managing," Rhodey admitted. "Tell them about your shifted form and let them coo over you."

That... That was probably a terrible idea, but it sounded great. Tony bit his lip. "Yeah, I don't know about that, Rhodeybear," he started, and then was interrupted by the chime of his doorbell. "Gotta go, we'll finish this up later."

Hanging up before Rhodey could reply -- Rhodey was used to him and wouldn't do more than sigh -- Tony ran his hands through his hair one last time and opened his door.

Bucky smirked at him from the other side of the threshold, Steve tucked under his good arm. "Hi Tony."

God but that smile could make him weak in the knees. Tony swallowed back his internal monologue and invited them in. "Hi Bucky, Steve. Can I get you anything to drink?"

With a chuckle, Bucky let go of his mate and stepped into the apartment, following Tony into his kitchen. "This is a bit of a role reversal," he commented. "Usually that's my line. What've you got on offer?"

Steve closed the door and joined them before Tony had a chance to start listing the various things he'd stocked. Thinking about the length of that list... well in retrospect he might have overdone things a little. Oops. Shrugging off the awkwardness that went with that realisation, he gestured toward the fridge. "Take your pick. There's a variety of options."

Steve opened the fridge and peered in, his eyebrows going up. "Tony, there's nothing _but_ drinks in here. What did you intend to have for dinner?"

"Well I wasn't sure what you'd like?" he responded a bit lamely. Bucky looked like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Tony winced and added. "And I thought we'd order in. I'm a terrible cook. Never manage to make anything besides coffee without setting off the fire alarm. There's a fantastic Thai place just a few blocks away that--"

Bucky was suddenly standing right in front of him, and Tony shut up. 

"Tony," Bucky said quietly, "you're worrying about this a lot more than you need to. I'm sure the Thai place is great, and it'll be fine for tonight. Pick out a few things _you_ like and get us a menu. Then come sit on your sofa and relax."

"I-- yeah, okay. Menu. JARVIS, get me the menu for the Thai Cookhouse?"

"Of course, sir," JARVIS replied promptly, and a hologram popped into view at his fingertips.

Both his guests startled hard. Steve choked on the ginger ale he'd grabbed to sip at. "Tony," he asked after he'd managed to stop coughing, "who is that?"

"You never said someone else was living with you," Bucky added.

"Uh, JARVIS is an artificial intelligence I designed and coded. He doesn't so much live here as he is the building? Runs everything from the temperature regulation and airflow down to the lighting."

Steve and Bucky exchanged a long look, and Tony braced himself for the reaction. This was probably going to be it. The thing that scared them off.

"Holy shit, that is so cool," Bucky breathed. "JARVIS?"

That was about as far from the reaction he'd been expecting that Tony almost staggered when the relief hit him.

"Yes?" his AI answered calmly.

"Do you like it here?" Bucky asked.

Tony stared at him, stunned, as JARVIS thought about that.

"Insofar as I have likes and dislikes," JARVIS answered after a few seconds that dragged, "I like it here. I am also in Malibu, and one or two other locations around the world, but this is Sir's favourite residence, and thus also mine."

Steve grinned. "That is the sweetest thing I think I've ever heard."


	7. [Bucky POV]

It took them a few minutes to tire of asking JARVIS questions about anything they could think of -- Steve, the devious little devil, had thought to ask JARVIS about Tony, to Tony's mortification and JARVIS' audible amusement -- and then move things into Tony's living room.

He and Steve made sure Tony was carefully pinned between them and shamelessly leaned against him as they got comfortable. Steve managed to secure an arm to cuddle, making Tony freeze, unsure how to react. The hesitation was long enough that Bucky ended up getting his arm around Tony's shoulders.

"Mmm, perfect," Steve approved when Bucky's hand brushed against the nape of his neck. "Movies and cuddling is always a good choice for a date."

"Mmhmm," Bucky agreed.

Tony finally relaxed, leaning into their hold without thinking.

The moment they were settled on the sofa, the lights dimmed and JARVIS was displaying the shortlisted movies Tony had picked out on the massive screen opposite them. Steve and Tony argued about the titles displayed for a few minutes, but Bucky didn't honestly give a damn what they watched. He was here for Tony. Not whatever picture was flickering on his massive screen.

Ten minutes later, Tony realised he'd forgotten the snacks and tensed right back up again. He'd peeled himself out of their arms, ignoring Steve's pout, and hurried into his kitchen to rummage around in his cabinets and make popcorn.

After a few seconds, Steve got up, his mouth a stubborn line, and he marched into the kitchen after Tony. Bucky hastily followed. By the time he got through the doorway, Steve had cornered Tony, boxing him in with his arms, his hands braced against the counters, and nevermind that he was a head shorter than Tony and probably about fifty pounds lighter.

Tony looked like he wanted to implode or have an anxiety attack on the spot.

"Steve," Bucky demanded quietly, keeping his voice level, "let him go. You know how I get sometimes."

That got Steve to look at Tony, really look, and he let go as though he'd been burned. "Tony, oh my god, why didn't you say something!"

"I--" Tony tried, but his voice cut out when Steve wrapped him up tight in a hug instead and whatever he'd been about to say came out as a quiet distressed whine instead as his arms automatically went around Steve in return.

Bucky let them have a moment then asked, "What do you need, Tony? A dark room? Time alone?" He saw the hesitation, the flash of what was very nearly fear and wanted to track down who- or whatever had caused Tony to have reaction just so he could make them regret it.

It took him a few more seconds but then Tony finally admitted, "I haven't shifted in a while. Makes me jittery."

"Then shift," Steve demanded. "We won't mind."

"Maybe I do!" Tony snapped, making Steve rear back, stunned.

"Why?" Bucky jumped in, before Steve could get hurt and make things worse. He knew how his mate reacted to that kind of surprise, and he was fairly sure Tony would freak out if Steve got truly steamed.

Tony shuddered, then took a hitching breath. "Remember what you said about not wanting to broadcast what you were?"

Bucky stopped dead in his verbal tracks for a beat, but that was okay because Steve had recovered enough to take over. "You know what Bucky's shifted form is," he said carefully. "So you know mine. Will you show us yours? We've known a few other vampires before, but none that could shift. We'd like to see it."

Bucky nodded. "If you'd rather not, that's okay, too, but you know we're not about to make a fuss." He caught Tony's eyes and joked, "Well, not unless you want us to, anyway." 

Tony didn't answer him, turning and pulling out of Steve's hold long enough to gather up a bowl of fruit. He handed it to Steve, all but shoving it into Steve's hands, and got a quizzical look in return.

"Uhm, so what am I supposed to do with this?" Steve asked him, holding the bowl a bit gingerly.

"Hold it for me," Tony replied cryptically. "And get your own popcorn."

And then a blink later his clothes were fluttering to the ground and a tiny white marshmallow of a bat was struggling free of the pile [1].

Bucky couldn't help the strangled squeak he made as he crouched and scooped Tony up into his palm. "Steve, Steve can we keep him?"

The pole axed look Steve had as he nodded was answer enough. "Yeah, Buck, I think we should. Wow."

The little ball of fluff in his hand gnawed at his thumb and Bucky wasn't sure what his expression was doing, but Steve was suddenly putting down the bowl of fruit and kissing him like it was the last chance he'd ever have.

Bucky fumbled for the edge of the counter to put Tony down, then kissed back, letting Steve press him against the edge of the counter and strop the length of his body against Bucky's.

A few seconds later, he felt something climbing the back of his shirt to tuck itself into the crook of his neck and hide in his hair, and Steve looked like his knees had gone and turned into jelly.

Bucky smirked at his mate. "I didn't think the night could get better, but it did," he commented.

Steve laughed outright. "I know what you mean."

After another, more or less chaste, kiss, Steve grabbed for the waiting bowl of fruit and offered Tony a blueberry, coaxing him off Bucky's shoulder with it. Bucky watched them for a little while, then set about making popcorn for them.

Five minutes later they were settled on the sofa again with a different movie playing just so they'd have some background noise. Steve was feeding Tony and cooing over him, while Bucky fed his mate popcorn and snacked, himself.

At one point, JARVIS, helpful person that he was, pointed out that Tony had a brush he enjoyed having used on him in his shifted form as well as where he kept it. Tony had made a protesting noise, but Steve had distracted him with a chunk of watermelon. Bucky had used the opportunity to go get the brush.

Once he returned, he offered the brush to Steve, who lit up and grabbed for it, immediately starting to run it over Tony's back.

Tony melted into his hands, going boneless, and the awe in Steve's eyes had been worth everything.

"Best date we've had in a long time," he commented, making Bucky look up to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, and we haven't even gotten to dinner yet." Bucky added, suddenly confident this would work out well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Okay, so the [Honduran white bat](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honduran_white_bat) is possibly the [cutest little marshmallow](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honduran_white_bat#/media/File:Ectophylla_alba_Costa_Rica.jpg) you'll ever see. Click here to return to text.


	8. [Steve POV]

For their third date, Tony had decided he was picking Steve and Bucky up at the bar. He'd wanted to try the movie night thing again, and actually watch a movie with them, this time. Steve thought it was sweet.

Bucky had been all for the idea until the middle of their shift. His arm had started acting up, cramping and hurting him, and by the time they'd gotten to the end of the shift, Steve could see that all Bucky wanted was to go home and lie on his electric blanket until the pain eased enough for him to fall asleep. But Bucky also definitely didn't want to disappoint Tony, carrying on with his shift despite the lines of pain on his face and his exhausted pallor, and Steve knew better than to try to convince his mate otherwise. All that would accomplish would be to cause one more argument that left them both fuming on a night where Bucky was already fighting to stay on an even keel and they both wanted to enjoy themselves with their date. So instead, Steve simply took over as much of the cleanup as Bucky would allow him to, and let his mated rest his arm as much as possible.

It was the best he could do, under the circumstances.

Eventually, they finished what they needed to and stepped out into the slowly cooling evening, and it was a relief. Bucky seemed to unwind. The tension in his back and shoulders released gradually, reminding Steve of what happened when someone pulled the plug on a tub of water.

When Tony appeared, stepping out of his car looking like a million bucks, he smiled brightly to see them waiting for him, and Bucky perked up immediately, laughing and joking like nothing was wrong. Steve could see the slight edge to everything Bucky did, though. There was the expectation that every movement, every gesture, would hurt. And a lot of them visibly did for all that Bucky did his level best to hide it. He managed to keep up his charade until Tony chivvied them into his living room and onto the sofa.

Tony wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist, daring to flirt a little more physically, and the whole façade suddenly unraveled. Bucky hissed and flinched when the move jarred his arm the wrong way, and Tony all but recoiled.

"Shit," Tony backed away hurriedly, and Bucky's face fell farther. "Too fast, I get it. I'll just--"

"Tony," Steve cut him off, realising he had to act now or Tony would freak out, "stop right there."

Tony froze, his eyes wide and slightly panicked. "But I--"

Bucky shook his head, wincing at the way that made the muscles in his shoulder pull more. "Wasn't you," he managed to grit out. "'M arm's been acting up all day."

A slightly tense silence fell and drew out like taffy as Tony stared at Bucky, stretching until it broke with an almost audible snap. "What?"

Bucky made a frustrated sound, verging on a growl. "My left arm's all but useless some days," he said shortly. "Got a bit mangled last year."

Steve saw Tony re-evaluate. There was very obviously a lot going through his head and he was fighting not to let it run away with him. "Useless, how?"

"The fae got to him," Steve supplied, secure in the knowledge that Bucky wouldn't want to say anything about it and hating that he had to talk about it at all, even with Bucky in the room. "Before I could get him back, he almost lost the arm entirely. It functions, more or less, but there's some nerve damage and the muscle damage never quite healed right."

Tony hissed, and Steve heard a mixture of anger and sympathy in the harsh sound. "Right. Come on. Off the sofa," he demanded, and offered Bucky a hand up. "Change of plans."

Bucky eyed him warily before he took the offered hand and let Tony pull him to his feet with a groan. "What crazy idea is brewin' in that head of yours?" he asked with a pained grimace.

"Hot tub. I have one. You need one. Ergo, you're going to sit in it and let your muscles turn into putty," Tony said, and started tugging Bucky out of the room. "J? Start the water heating?"

"Of course, Sir," JARVIS replied, as smoothly as ever. "Shall I cancel your food order?"

"Just put it on hold for now. We'll probably want it later," Tony decided.

Bucky, of course, resisted. "I didn't bring my swim trunks," he tried to protest.

"I don't mind skinny dipping," Tony replied with a shrug. "Steve?"

Utterly unprepared for this, but willing to let Tony mother Bucky a little, Steve shrugged and tried to hide his amusement. "I'll cope. It's not like I've never seen it before."

"Steve," Bucky whined at him, the pain in his arm and the scarring making him suddenly self-conscious even as his will to resist started crumbling, "be serious."

Tony pouted at him. "You'd deny me the chance to get my hands all over you?"

"I'll second that," Steve put in. "That damn t-shirt of yours has been teasing me all evening."

He could see the moment Bucky gave in to the inevitable. "Fine," he grumbled, though the words didn't carry much heat, "but I ain't skinny dippin'."

Tony didn't say anything, but Steve just knew they would end up in the buff, or as near as made little difference, before the night was over. In the end, Steve decided, that was okay. As far as he was concerned, right now the important thing was to get Bucky to relax and stop hurting, and he was fairly sure Tony was on the same page despite his teasing.

A few more steps had them at the door of Tony's bedroom, and Bucky balked again, briefly. Tony didn't bother arguing that time, and simply hauled Bucky along with an arm around his waist. "Water'll need a little time to warm up," he said, as though they didn't all know that already. "In the meantime, you can tell me what exactly is hurting."

Steve hesitated, waiting for Bucky to make a decision, and took the moment to start undoing the buttons of his shirt in silence. He got an appreciative glance from Tony, but nothing more because Tony was busy staring down Bucky stubbornly.

When the silence drew out a bit, Tony made a frustrated sound. "Look, I get it, okay?" he said, tone a little sharp, and yanked his shirt off over his head. "I've got my own little souvenir."

The word came out as more of a sneer, but Bucky was sufficiently distracted. And horrified.

Steve was, too. Whatever that was, it was probably the size of Tony's fist, glowed a bit sinisterly, and looked like it was embedded in his chest.

"Tony?" Bucky finally got himself talking again. "What-- what is that?"

The question got him a weary sigh. "Keeps me alive. You don't really need to know more and I'd rather not go into the details. Suffice to say, someone I trusted betrayed me and someone who owed me nothing sacrificed himself to make this."

Right. That thing, whatever it was, whatever it did, clearly had a lot of bad memories attached to it. Steve winced. It was probably a pretty big gesture of trust that Tony had even shown it to them, if what he'd said was true. It had sure sounded sincere.

The horror on Bucky's face twisted and deepened for a moment before he managed to get it under control. He took a stuttering breath, and nodded. "A'right, we can talk about it another time."

With a shudder, Tony shoved his own memories back in their box. "Good. Now strip down and tell me what's wrong. I picked up more than a few tricks from my massage therapist."


	9. [Bucky POV]

Looking back, that third date had been something of a turning point. He hadn't been able to see it at the time, a bit too strung out on the pain signals his arm was sending him, but that had been the night when Steve and Tony had started to tag team him.

Their next few dates, his mate and his date would exchange a look that spoke volumes, and Bucky just knew that Tony was asking Steve about him. Whether he needed a quiet night in, another hour in Tony's hot tub, or anything else of that nature. The pair of them were spoiling him rotten, and he loved it. His knight in shining armour had come through for him every time, and then proceeded to do everything in his power to make things better than before.

Bucky had had to draw some deep lines in the sand and defend them fiercely to stop Steve and Tony from just running roughshod over him, but the pair of them were worth all of it. All the arguments over what they thought he needed versus what he thought he did, and what they thought he should do versus what he thought he should do. Worth every moment.

Especially since, now that they'd been dating for nearly a month, Steve had finally decided they were solid enough to risk taking the next step. His mate had insisted they move slowly, rather than taking Tony to bed on the fourth date as they had everyone else they'd brought into their relationship. Steve wanted this to be different from their more casual flings, wanted it to be something that lasted, and Bucky agreed. Even better, so had Tony, once they'd broached the topic properly. But that had meant holding back. It had meant getting to know one another in detail, and becoming friends first, before they allowed themselves to become lovers.

It had been very sensible, all in all, and had had the added benefit of convincing Rhodes that they were actually serious about sticking around.

But Tony had made sure to turn it into the longest tease Bucky had ever had to suffer through. He'd found quite a lot of Bucky's buttons in the second week. After reducing Bucky to putty that first time he'd dared slide into Tony's hot tub, Tony had taken it on himself to figure out how to turn them on. He'd tried all sorts of ridiculous things ranging from walking around in see through mesh clubbing clothes and a tiny thong -- that little experiment had had Bucky all but salivating with the way it had shown off his build and his half hard cock, goddamn -- to deepthroating a banana without bothering to do more than peel it. That time he'd made Steve choke on air.

They'd learned more than a little bit about Tony in return, too. After the incident with the mesh clothes, Bucky had worked out that Tony had something of a praise kink. A bit of flattery when Tony tried his seductive wiles worked wonders. On occasion it had even gotten him to blush bright red in a way that made Bucky want to lick him all over.

All of which meant that they were prepared now that, at long fucking last, they were about to take the plunge.

Steve caught his eyes as they rode the elevator up to Tony's apartments. "I'll never get used to this place," he muttered. "It's so..."

"So unlike Tony?" Bucky retorted. Because it really was. Tony was one of those people who was expected to behave a certain way by the public, and took care to actually do it so that they wouldn't dig too much deeper into his private life.

"Yeah," Steve agreed, and then the elevator was slowing to a stop.

Its doors opened with a quiet ping, and then JARVIS was letting them into Tony's home. Tony himself was in the kitchen, humming the melody of one of his favoured rock songs. Steve smiled fondly, and followed the sound. "Tony?"

"Steve! You're early," Tony responded easily. "Where's--"

Bucky cut him off by stepping into the kitchen after his mate, anticipating the rest of the question. "I'm right here," he answered.

"Good. Great. Take a load off, get comfortable," Tony invited them.

"And what about you?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tony huffed at him. "I'm going to finish making my coffee."

Bucky eyed him. Tony didn't usually drink coffee this late in the evening unless he had some kind of project to finish and a deadline. Or had had trouble sleeping the night before. "Long day?" he asked, skirting around the issue a little.

"No more than usual," Tony said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, "and it's better now that you're here."

Bucky made a show of thinking that over, then turned to his mate. "Come on, Steve, it looks like we need to tuck him in and stay with him until he passes out."

"But then we won't get to try out all the things we had planned," Steve objected, his tone making it clear that if Tony really needed the sleep, he would abandon those plans in a heartbeat.

Tony eyed them a bit warily and sipped at his drink. "What plans?"

Steve chuckled, the sound carrying a decidedly evil edge. "The plans where we pin you to the bed and try to put you through it." 

That response made Tony choke on his next swallow of coffee, sputtering and coughing as he hastily set it down on the counter. "Sorry, what?"

Bucky couldn't help the way he smirked, enjoying every moment of this. He'd been looking forward to taking Tony to bed for weeks. "You heard him. We're planning to make sure you don't leave your bedroom until about noon tomorrow."

Swallowing hard, Tony hesitated for a moment, then marched boldly into Bucky's personal space, putting them nose-to-nose. "You mean that, or is this another tease meant to provoke a reaction?"

"Oh, Tony," Bucky let his smirk deepen into a smile and leaned in to drop a kiss on Tony's forehead, "we meant every word."


End file.
